After the Storm
by Starbuck0322
Summary: After the Storm... there is only Kate Beckett... Snippets of the lives that make up Caskett after "A Death in the Family"... Hope you enjoy!
1. The BreakUp

After the cameras fade to black in "A Death in the Family" we have...

_1. The Break-Up_

* * *

"It's about your mother."

Time stops. Reckoning residual silence. His words like daggers. She takes a step back. Instantly pain strikes her features, boiling to the top of her.

"For godsakes Castle, what did I tell you?" Fists clenched at her side. She wants nothing more than to beat the life out of him.

"You need to know." He says cautiously, fully aware he had mere minutes to get his point across. He can tell by the flush of her skin, her posture rigid, she is contemplating flight.

"I don't need to know anything. Did I not tell you? Was I not perfectly clear?" Her arms crossed now, she cocks her head, sadness flooding her face.

"You were."

"Then why are you doing this?" The words 'to me' threatening to make their appearance. Tears beginning to well within her.

"Because you need to know."

"Damn it Castle. I can't do this." Her hands brought to her face; she turns away from him, taking initial steps down the hall.

He reaches out to grab her arm, pulling her around to face him. Jerking, she pulls her arm away.

"At least hear what I have to say." He offers leaning down to her, his voice low, inaudible to a nurse who walks behind them.

"No Castle." She says, eyes diverting. She offers a half smile to another passerby. "I'm not going to hear what you have to say. I told you. We're done. Ok? Done."

Hate flowing across her words; they are cold and to the point.

He sighs, heartbeat heavy, watching her walk away, turning abruptly into Agent Sorenson's room.

***

She stands now in front of the Agent, taking a heavy breath, fighting against her sorrow. He had done it; like she knew he would. And now they were over.

His eyes open, Will stares at her, concern in his voice, "Kate? What is it?"

He can see the frustration at the corner of her mouth, the furrow in her brow. Eyes brimming, she takes a step toward him, placing a knee on the bed, lifting herself up, placing her body in line with Sorensen. He brings a hand around to rest carefully on her back, his brow beginning to furrow, as she rests her head carefully on his shoulder, allowing her arm to fall across his waist.

"What did he have to say?" Will asks, finally working up the nerve to say something.

"Nothing," she says sniffling.

"Did he hurt you?" His concern rising.

"No," she lies, nuzzling his shoulder, "I'm just glad you're ok."

* * *

A special shout out and thank you to _Layla0315, __Lickerish_ and _Pencilheart_ for your countless reviews and comments. You rock my world!

_Layla0315_ you are my number one fan!


	2. Heavy Thoughts

_2. Heavy Thoughts_

* * *

Two lovers lie awake in each other's arms. Their uneven, heavy panting the only sound in the room. Tethers fragile, the stick of their flesh the only entity binding them together in embrace. Kate Beckett's eyes remain open. Her thoughts travelling beyond her body, beyond this room where she lies in Will Sorenson's arms.

She sighs gently, pulling herself from him, leaving his side, curling into a ball, exposing her back to him. She pulls the covers over her flesh, as a chill runs over her skin; the heat of his body no longer keeping her warm.

Will, unsure what to do with his arms now that her weight is not with him, pulls his hands to his chest, and looks up, watching his ceiling fan spin, attempting to follow a single blade in its rotation.

They remain like this for some time, their breathing subsiding. The quiet ticking of his clock taking up the space between them.

Finally he turns his head and remarks, "You're thinking rather loudly."

"I'm sorry," she says flatly, refusing to offer anything further.

"You want to tell me what's bugging you?" he asks.

When silence is the only thing returned to him, he rolls onto his side and edges nearer to her, drawing a hand up to her shoulder. Gently he pulls her toward him, laying her on her back. "Is it about your mother?"

She looks to him, nodding slightly, turning her gaze to the ceiling fan above them.

He runs a hand slowly over her, smoothing the blanket at her stomach. He sighs, diverting his eyes away from her as he says, "Maybe you should hear what he has to say."

She pulls away from him abruptly, cutting him away from her, returning to her previous position, but he pulls himself along with her, in line with her body. Hands reach up to her again, he rests his head against hers, lightly kissing her shoulder.

"I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry," he pauses carefully choosing his words, "I just think that maybe it will help. Put her to rest, so to speak."

She groans heavily, sitting up, hanging her legs over the side of the bed, "Well Will, that's just great. I guess everyone knows what's best for me, don't they."

He lies back, bringing his hands to his face, grunting, "God Kate. I don't want to fight. I just think-"

He is cut off by the ringing of her cell phone; the sound causing them to jump uneasily. Beckett reaches for her phone flipping it open.

"Beckett."

The other line is inaudible to Will who props himself up on his elbow as he sees Beckett's mouth open slightly, worry striking her brow.

"Oh. Ok." she says choking, "I'll be there as soon as I can." She folds her phone, and stares at it for a few moments, letting the news sink in.

"Another body?" Will asks genuinely.

"No," she says matter-of-factly, turning to face him, eyes beginning to well, "It's Castle. He's been shot."

* * *


	3. Flight

_3. Flight_

* * *

The quick, high heeled footsteps of Detective Kate Beckett echo loudly down the hallway of Lenox Hill Hospital in the Upper East Side of Manhattan Island. Fists clenched by her side, her gait shortens as she edges nearer to the doorway of Room 2203.

The hallway, a buzz of commotion, Beckett looks up to see Detectives Esposito and Ryan standing talking to an officer in uniform. Esposito nods to Beckett as her hand reaches out to open the door.

Beckett enters quietly, letting the door close behind her. She looks up timidly to the back of the room where a curtain is drawn around a single bed; the other three beds in the room are unoccupied.

The quiet of the room fades away suddenly, melting into the giggling of two female voices, accompanied by Castle's charming, haunting chuckle which floods Beckett's ears with familiar sound. Confusion treads across the Detective's face as she quietly edges to the back of the room, hand reaching out to draw the curtain aside.

"Ladies, ladies," Castle utters, suave and debonair, "There's more than enough Castle to go around."

The curtain is drawn to find a blonde and a brunette nurse, hands feeling the sides of Castle, a blood pressure cuff around his arm. A white bandage covers his shoulder. As Beckett stares at the events in front of her, mind attempting to wrap around the present situation, Castle looks back at her with amazement, a satisfactory grin widening his features.

"Hello Detective." He says, eyes intent on her as her face turns to disgust.

He leans toward the blonde nurse and utters, "Do you mind if we continue this later ladies?"

They nod smiling, disconnecting Castle from their work, allowing their eyes to run over Detective Beckett as they exit, talking amongst themselves.

"It's good to see you Kate." Castle says once they are left alone.

"I wish I could say likewise," she says coldly, "I was told you were shot."

"I was," he says pointing to his right shoulder, "They say I might even get a scar out of this. How cool is that?! My very first battle scar."

She crosses her arms, motioning her head toward his shoulder, "How on earth did you manage to get shot Castle?"

He smiles again, bringing his left hand to his elbow, pulling his injured arm up onto a pillow, "Apparently I need to be more careful whilst cleaning my gun."

Beckett makes her best attempt at choking back a laugh at Castle's expense, and then, "Castle? Since when do you have a gun?" Her features lightening for a second, she returns her hands to her side, her thumbs tucking into the front pockets of her jeans.

"It might surprise you Beckett, but I've always had a thing for cold steel." He pauses, thinking back to their time in the shooting gallery. "You didn't really think you were that good of a teacher did you?"

"Well I'm glad you're not dead..." she trails off, looking at him, finally turning on her heel heading toward the door.

Castle jumps out of bed, heavy footsteps draw nearer to her. He catches her arm before she has a chance to leave. "Wait," he says breathing heavily.

"What Castle?" She sighs turning; head cocked, looking up at him.

"Stay with me. Talk with me." Pleading, needing.

"I have nothing to say to you."

"But I have something to say." His hand runs down her arm to her hand, drawing her fingers in his own.

She pulls her hand away. "Castle, I told you-"

"Kate, you need to hear what I have on your mother's case. This new information will help a great deal."

"Did you not hear me?"

Frustration attacking his nerve, "I did. But let's be honest. Running away from this is not the Kate Beckett I know. She would stay and fight. She would solve this."

"Well maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do." She turns away from him, heading toward the door, hand reaching out for the handle.

"You're wrong," he says, his voice rising, cracking with emotion. She hesitates by the open door, he continues, "I know you all too well. You're running away from this. You're being a coward."

He is sorry for what he has said before the words escape his lips. "Kate, I-" he offers, but she has already left him, his words echoing in the dark room.

* * *

_Ooooo... I wonder what will happen next... intrigued? Anyone?_

_Thanks to all who have written reviews and are following my stories... I can't tell you enough... greatly appreciate it indeed..._


	4. Multicoloured Roses

_4. Multicoloured Roses_

_

* * *

_

The early hours sweep across the city of New York. Thick haze sitting heavy in the sky, as tall skycrappers fight their way through the morning, casting dark shadows on its citizens passing by.

Detective Kate Beckett sleepishly pulls her vehicle in front of Precinct 12. She is dying for caffeine, begging her bad night's sleep to evade her. Grabbing her bag, she drags her body from the car, heavy footsteps drawing her into the building.

The office is alive with commotion in these early hours. She smiles to an officer as she turns a corner heading into her familiar corridor. As she edges closer to her desk, she notices the crowd formed. She can make out Detectives Esposito and Ryan in among the visitors to her station. It is not long before her senses adjust to her surroundings.

Red, white, pink, peach, and yellow coloured roses cover her desk, the adjoining desk, and the floor in tall arrangements. Flowers by the hundreds scatter about the room. Beckett is afraid to count the amount, the office now resembling a flower shop and not her place of work. She raises a hand, reaching out to one bouquet gently picking up a card, reading. "I'm Sorry," is written in Castle's own distinct handwritting. A card lies in each arrangement.

Esposito, mouth hung open in shock, looks up to Beckett, "Oh, you have to tell me what he did."

Several other officers look to Beckett, muttering to each other, nodding in unison.

From behind them a voice shouts out, "Where would you like this one?"

Beckett turns to see a young man dressed in delivery greens, holding up a bouquet of yellow roses, another identical note attached.

The officers immediately burst into a chorus of laughter and cat calls. Beckett can feel her skin turning shades of red as Captain Montgomery heads around a corner, shouting above the chatter, "Beckett! My office! Now!"

The silence lasts for only a moment, finally breaking into further cat calls and laughter. She is almost relieved to be called away, the embarassment flooding her nerves, making her feel weak. She enters Montgomery's office, sees him standing at the back, leaning against a window.

"Close the door. Sit down." His tone is short, to the point.

She abides pulling up a chair, folding her hands in her lap.

"Do you mind telling me why my office resembles something out of a Martha Stewart magazine detective?" He turns to look at her, crossing his arms.

"Sir, I.." she begins but is unsure where to start. "It's Castle."

When she doesn't say anything further, Montgomery unfolds his arms, placing his hands on his desk. Lowering his voice he begins, "When the mayor first brought Castle in here to work with you I knew there was going to be tension. It was bound to happen. The way you two look at one another...," he pauses, her eyes make contact with his, "But honestly Kate, I thought you had a better head on your shoulder than to let yourself get involved with him."

Beckett's face flattens, "Sir, it's not that at all."

Montgomery leans back, folding his arms once more, "Then what is it Detective?"

She sighs looking back to her hands again, "It's about my mother. Castle has dug up something."

"And?"

She looks back up to him, head slightly cocked toward him, "And... I can't go down there again. I won't do it."

"Why not?"

"I can't open up those wounds again."

"Because?"

Her eyes brimming with tears now. "Because I'm afraid of what it will do to me," she says, her voice cracking. Her lip curls; ashamed, she looks away.

Montgomery sighs softly. Stepping around his desk, he leans against it, directly in front of her.

"Kate?" She looks up to him, a single tear tracing a line down her cheek. She takes a hand and brushes it away. "Did you ever think that maybe this is what your mother wants?" He questions.

"Yes," she says softly, nodding, looking away from him.

"Don't you think _you_ deserve justice?"

"Yes," Beckett says, looking down now, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Your mother wants justice too Kate. And if Castle can help you get it, I don't see the harm in it."

She is silent for a moment another tear finding its way out of hiding.

His voice low, he leans down to her, "You're stronger than you think you are Detective. I know you can do this."

Still looking down, Beckett nods as a few more tears fall down her face. She finally looks up to him smiling, brushing her hands over her face, smoothing her features.

Montgomery stands, placing a hand on Beckett's shoulder as he heads toward the door. Montgomery opens the door for Beckett and as she exits, calls out after her. "Detective?"

She turns to face him, "Sir?"

"Just don't prove me wrong."

She nods slightly, smiling, "I won't. You have my word."

* * *

_More to come soon..._


	5. Reunion

_5. Reunion_

* * *

It is becoming late in the evening when there is a rapping on the door to Richard Castle's apartment. Martha's footsteps tread lightly toward the door opening it, a look of surprise coming to her face.

"Detective Beckett," she says, the smallest hint of shock resonating in her voice.

"Detective Beckett?" Castle questions quietly, rising abruptly from the desk in his office, taking quick steps toward the door, unsure if his mother is being truthful.

But Detective Kate Beckett does enter the apartment, does turn to face him. Dressed in a leather jacket, tight fitted shirt and jeans she is the vision of his dreams, the vision he had been praying to see once again, if only for a moment. Weeks gone by since his outburst at the hospital. Too much time passed without the sight of her, without hearing her voice, without her rolling her eyes at him. He stares dumbfounded now when she says,

"Hello Castle."

Martha, palms held pressed together at her lips, stands a close distance from both Castle and Beckett. She looks to Castle who stares at Beckett; she looks to Beckett who in turn stares at Castle. No one makes a movement, no one makes a sound.

Finally Martha says, "Right," taking a few steps toward her son, reaching out to lightly grab each of his shoulders. "Well you two kids must have lots to talk about." She does not move away at first, and looks up to her son, his eyes still locked with his detective.

Castle leans down slightly, whispering, "Take the hint mother."

She releases her grip on her son, and turning takes the few steps to stand in front of Beckett. Beckett finally releasing her stare with Castle, looks to Martha.

"Please be gentle my dear," Martha says reaching out to touch Beckett's arm lightly.

Beckett smiles warmly, offering, "I'll try my best."

As soon as Martha Rogers is out of sight and yet still not out of earshot, Castle moves to stand directly in front of Beckett, arms loosely by his side. Beckett is the first to utter anything.

"Castle, I-" she begins but Castle kneels abruptly in front of her, lowering his head. When she does not offer anything further, Castle brings his hands to rest them on the outside of her thighs. She straightens slightly at his touch, and when she notices he does not move any further, she brings a hand to his head to rest, fingers lightly playing with his hair.

He pulls her into him tightly, taking her off balance slightly, causing her to take a step toward him. His hands travel the length of her, up her leg over her ass, the tips of his fingers entering the back pockets of her jeans.

She lets out a held breath and after several moments utters awkwardly, "Castle?"

He does not move at first but finally releases his grip on her. Looking up at her, a look of solemn contemplation. "I'm an ass. I'm so sorry."

"Don't. Please," she says lightly shaking her head.

He shakes his head fiercely, "I knew the ramifications were far too grand but I just wanted to help you. I just had to know."

"Castle-"

"I just wanted to fix this even though I knew I could end up on the losing end." His head lowers again, hands returning to her body running from the back of her knee over her muscular calves.

"Castle," His name released as easily as breath. She is relishing in the sensation of his hands on her, "I've had a lot of time to think about this in the past few weeks. I shouldn't have pushed you away so quickly. You were just trying to help."

"It's true. I was."

"I know. The past few weeks just weren't the same without you around constantly getting on my case." At this she smiles, continuing, "I think I need that. I think I deserve that." She sighs deeply, making eye contact with him; his features hopeful. "The truth is, I'm not so sure I can be the same me without you anymore."

Castle's smile is one of a love crazed teen. He picks himself off the floor and in one swift movement reaches out, encircling Beckett in an awkward hug; his arms tight around her. Her back completely straight, head back so as not to touch him, arms at her side hanging loosely. They stay like this for a moment before he utters softly, "I was so scared I had lost you."

With these words Beckett's tight frame loosens melting into his own, her head coming to his shoulder; she rests her head, letting go another held breath. She brings her arms around to rest against his back, fingers lightly feeling the texture of his t-shirt.

"You didn't lose me," she says softly into his shoulder.

Their scents so familiar to each other, wrapped in the warmth of one another, both unaware of his snoopy mother who stands behind a pillar in the apartment, palms pressed against her chest, a triumphant smile on her face.


	6. Hold Onto Me

_6. Hold Onto Me_

* * *

Several glasses of wine later, with the clock ticking into the early hours of the morning, Richard Castle sits leaning back, feet resting on his desk, fingering frantically typing away at his laptop, a story forming in his mind. He is enthralled in his work, unaware of the events taking place in the room, especially of the teenager who walks quietly behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Jesus," he says, the laptop nearly leaving his lap, feet falling to the floor. He turns around abruptly to find Alexis, his daughter, dressed in sleepwear, her features showing shock equal to his own.

"Sorry," she says, pulling her hands away from him, drawing her arms in to cross them at her middle. "I just came down to tell you how late it is."

"Oh," Castle says, reaching around to find his watch, "And how late is it?"

"Dad," she sighs, "It's almost 3. And you know how you need your beauty rest."

Castle smiles reaching out his arms, beckoning her to come near, drawing her into a hug. "You're going to make a wonderful parent one day," he says matter-of-factly, his head now resting against her.

"One day?" she questions, her eyes now drawn to the couch in his office, to a sleeping detective who is breathing softly.

"Dad?" she questions.

"Yes," he answers against her t-shirt, then leaning back to look at her.

Her eyes still focussed on the sleeping figure, "Is that Detective Beckett?"

Castle follows her gaze to Beckett who moves slightly in her sleep. His eyes open in slight amazement, as if he had forgotten the events of that evening. Case file photos of her mother lay on the table in front of her, scattered amongst other files and notes. Her coat now removed lays at the opposite end of the table.

Castle turns back to his daughter, "That is one Detective Kate Beckett."

Alexis' eyes open, a wide grin lining her face, "So did you two kiss and make-up?"

"In so many words," Castle says smiling looking back to Beckett who is motionless, breathing softly once more.

Alexis takes a hand bringing it to her father's head, and ruffles his hair, "Good father," she says as his hand flies up to catch her own.

"Hey watch it," he says, smoothly, "Don't mess with the hair."

Alexis' head cocks toward him, leaning down to him, "I told you the flowers would work."

"That you did," Castle says, reaching back around pulling her into him once more. He pats her on the back. "Now go to bed."

She pulls away from him taking initial steps out of the room, "But I wanted to say hello."

"You can see her in the morning," he says to which she turns, looking at her father in sheer delight. He smiles continuing, "To bed."

Castle watches Alexis climb the stairs until he cannot see her feet anymore, and with the closing of her bedroom door, he rises from his chair taking a few steps across the room. Carefully picking up a few photos, placing them into the folder as if they belonged to the victim herself, he finally takes a seat in front of his sleeping detective.

His eyes travel the length of her, curled, legs pulled into her chest, her boots now off. Her hands together, supporting her head under a pillow. He remarks at the smoothness of her skin, not a line in sight, as her features are allowed to rest. The chain around her neck hanging loosely, her mother's ring in plain sight. He refrains from leaning over to take it in his hands, having never seen it clearly before.

"Castle?" she says softly, eyes opening in confusion.

He, finally realizing how close he is to her, the scent of her perfume flooding his senses, as she sits up suddenly.

"Hi," he says guiltily.

"Where you watching me sleep?" She questions, hands coming to her face, rubbing some colour into her cheeks.

"No," he pauses, "Well Maybe." He nods his head. "Yes, yes I was."

"Do you realize how insanely creepy that is?"

"Maybe," his face turning a smile, "But you were so cute with your cooing and your little snorts and such."

A hand is drawn to her mouth, "I was not," shock resonating.

He does nothing but smile, leaning back.

"What time is it?" her eyes squinting in the dim lighting.

"We're almost at three."

"Damn," she is attempting to shake off the effect of the liquor, "I should be going." She gets up slowly reaching for her coat.

Castle reaches it before she has a chance to grab it.

"Castle..."

"I think it would be better if you just stayed the night."

"My coat please."

He stands, directly in front of her, drawing her coat behind his back, as her hands reach out for him to give it to her.

"I can't let you drive home detective. Not with a few glasses of wine in you, half asleep. I would feel a lot better if you just stayed." He motions toward the stairs, "There's a guest bedroom. You'd be no bother."

She sighs, letting her shoulders relax, nodding gently, "Alright Castle. That's fair. Lead the way."

***

It is a few hours later when Richard Castle is pulled from his dream, shaking the memory of the legs of Nikki Heat no longer wrapped around him, he looks over to the side of the bed. Alexis stands, worry across her face.

"Dad," she says shaking his shoulder again.

"Pumpkin," he says, bringing his hands to his face, "What's the matter?"

She sighs heavily, unsure of what to say, "It's Kate. I can hear her."

Castle sluggishly raises from his bed, turning, letting his feet touch the floor. "You can hear what?" he asks, looking up to her.

"I think you should go to her. Talk to her." Alexis hands are together, grabbing her fingers twisting.

Castle reaches over to grab a t-shirt, putting it on, he treads heavily toward the door.

It is not long before he is standing outside the door to the guest bedroom, muffled sobs coming from inside the room. He breaths a heavy breath before entering, contemplating his actions but wanting so badly to be the hero. He opens the door slightly without making a noise and quietly edges toward the bed.

Her back is to him, she lies curled, hands covering her face. She cannot hear him approach until he places a knee on the bed, quietly drawing the sheets. He manages to sit on the bed before her hands draw from her face and she turns around to face him, black smudges circling her bloodshot eyes. With the little light there is in the room he can make out her face, dark and red.

She rolls her eyes back, looking away again, "Damn it Castle. Go away."

He pulls her sheets up further around him, drawing nearer to her, "Nope. I'm not going anywhere."

Her body pressed against the edge of the bed, he pulls alongside her, close enough to draw his body in line with hers. He brings a hand to her shoulder, gently running his hand down her arm.

She contemplates flight but before she has a chance to act on it, his fingers find her own entwining together. He pulls her body back against him, their bodies fitting together perfectly. He brings his head to rest against hers, her scent again, intoxicating.

"Rick. Please," she begs, her fingers pushing against his own, attempting to free themselves.

But he is unrelenting, holding her tighter he whispers into her ear, "It's ok Kate. It's ok to feel this way."

She shudders slightly, letting go of her quivering lip, another hot tear running down her sore face.

"I'm going to hold you. You don't really have a choice in the matter." His words smiling.

"I don't need you to hold me Castle. I'm a big girl. I can cry on my own."

He releases his grip on her, running his hands up and down her arms gently by the tips of his fingers.

"You don't need to. I'm not going anywhere. So you can stop trying to push me away." His lips reach her brow placing a gentle kiss there and at his touch her shoulders loosen, her frame melting into his own once more, giving into him far less challenging than the fight. The bait set, Beckett turns around to face him, their eyes meeting for a moment, her own dark and troubled; his caring and soft.

"Ok," she says quietly, "You win."

She brings a hand to his chest, fingers lightly toying with his t-shirt, her other arm reaching around his waist, encircling him. Carefully she pulls her eyes away from his, placing her head under his to rest her forehead against his chest. Softening her breathing, she inhales deeply, stifling back a few sobs.

"Tell me Katie, when's the last time someone held you."

"I can't remember," she says honestly, remarking how Will had never offered to do this.

"You see, that's not good," he pauses, kissing her forehead once more, "That most definitely should be changed."

She takes a moment to look up at him and he smiles down to her, at her smudged make up.

"What?" she asks, taken aback, her brow furrowing.

"Stay right here. I'll be back."

He escapes to the ensuite returning with a warm washcloth, showing it to Beckett. She rolls her eyes slightly, curling the corner of her lip with her teeth.

"Castle..." she begins again as he brings the cloth to her face, gentle, caressing.

"Shh," he offers, "Let me do it for you."

The warm cloth is run over her features, and she closes her eyes at the sensation, remarking on his careful technique on her rough skin, raised and irritated from her tears. She sighs, giving into him, her hands unknowingly coming to his chest, to claw carefully at his shirt, pulling the fabric in her fingertips.

When he has finished he places the cloth aside, his hands returning to her face, brushing aside an errant strand of dark hair. Her eyes open slowly for him. His Beckett stripped of her detective-ness, lying dressed in his buttoned shirt, her face void of everything he has known her to be. But she is beautiful in this moment, relaxed and comforted, as his arms reach out to encircle her once more pulling her into his chest. And finally for a moment, he has seen it quickly flicker across her face, a smile, genuine and careful.

As she curls into him, she can feel the tension escaping her, can feel her succumbing to his grasp. Her head beneath his chin, she sighs again, warm breath against his t-shirt.

"Thank you," she says softly, against him, a hand returning to his side.

"You don't owe me any thanks, Kate," he says delicately, pulling the duvet around them. "But if you promise to close your eyes and get some sleep, we'll be even."

His hand moving steadily on her back, it is not long after he offers a kiss to her forehead, that Kate Beckett succumbs to sleep, the muse safe in the arms her writer.

* * *


End file.
